Saviour
by apple lovejoy
Summary: JACOB/BELLA: When he can't save her anymore.


**Title: **Saviour  
**Author: **_philippaa_  
**Rating: **T  
**Warnings: **Unless you hate Jacob with a passion…  
**Disclaimer: **If I owned Twilight, I doubt I'd be writing fan fictions.  
**Side note: **First Twilight fan fiction; had fun writing, though.

* * *

Maybe she did smell like ice, and maybe he did smell like earth. The scent was adequately enough to drive the two away – not completely, but a sufficient sum of length away for them to be incapable of distinguishing each other's expressions.

She was prettier, in a baffling and childlike way – he _hated_ it. Prettier but much more catastrophic; she did not seem to perceive his facial expression or the occasional flinching, and glares of acrimony (bad blood, that's all there is) – flying at her. Perhaps she's too distraught, or maybe it is the memorable reflection of an old friend caused her to dive back into the boundless history they had shared, busy fishing out whatever she can get.

It is hard to think, that he used to be so close to her – so close; emotionally, and physically. Now, as disgusted as he is, smiled mentally, an acidic smile. What would Sam say?

She wasn't as bad as the others – the antagonism lingering on their faces, one less bloodsucker to kill. Where'd all the fun go?

She walked closer; eyes enlarge as the view gets nearer. He despises the eyes, the face, and the movements of these leeches. Each step she took is a toe out of line, yet he did not feel the need to tell her so… hey, it's her torso.

He shushed the frequent protests and bawling from the rest the pack mentally before rushing to the boundary. Notifying them that this is something he can handle. Embry blanched, Quil thought he had cracked, and Sam was silent, trying to oblige as much confidence as he can out of himself for Jacob, while trying to sway the rest.

It took _her_ at least five steps in order to get the aggravating messages still lingering in _his_ mind regarding this stupid matter.

_Seriously, fuck off – all of you._

Again, everything was tranquil, he wondered if Sam is somewhere near – stalking him. She seemed much more secure to walk forth as his facial expressions relaxed from winning the internal verbal bicker with the others prior; the steps barely distinguishable – with the soft breeze blowing unruly kisses at them. She did not smile, and he was glad of it, if she did, he wondered, if he is able to resist his old friend.

Another toe, another toe…

"Leave," Curt, simple, and bitter.

She stopped, but did not turn, her lips twitched, her face painful to watch as a small spasm of emotion tear her immaculate façade.

The words were zooming in his mind; he thought of all the bad things he can hurl at her, to make her abscond, what is she really thinking? Isn't the lifeless lifestyle fun? He was getting annoyed – mainly because he did not feel comfortable looking at her, looking at a…

"Leave," …and he felt like the world's biggest idiot.

Her mouth was opened (did he shock her by any means?), powerless to produce a sound. Between guilt and awareness, she never felt so exposed. She was pale already, now paler, if that's possible. She has so many things on her mind that she would just _love_ to tell him, yet in some way, she can't remember who he was to her.

Lover? Friend? Which is which, again?

She didn't think he smelled any good now. Bella ached as she mentally agreed with Edward and Alice that Jacob truly stench of a dog. However, internally slapping herself and reminding she once loved it.

It was difficult for her to find the words right now. She _is_ breaking the rules, and she is aware of that, and the fact that Jacob is about to depict his most sincere hostility towards her – the intruder. Bella Swan, in La Push – an interloper. She suddenly gave a small mirthless chuckle, and it wasn't like her.

He still remained calm, wondered if Edward changed her into a bloodsucker like the rest and a psychopath, too. Her rolled his midnight eyes meekly, waiting.

She stopped, yet again, took _another_ step, careful yet at ease, perhaps his strong, disgusting smell just wasn't strong enough to cut their old bonds in half completely. As she walked closer, his growl only deepened. None said anything, only their eyes battled in a mediocre game of tragedy.

As Jacob's snarl grown to be thunderous, Bella's steps are much more timid. When will she understand that she isn't _welcomed_ in La Push anymore?

The wind blow ruthlessly, yet to them, it felt like faint spring breeze, the rain began to pour, small, and very plain drops dashed on their skin, lightly. They can barely feel it. The globule looked as if melting instantly on his skin, and hardening on hers.

_What the hell do you think you are doing, man?_

They were only three feet apart, yet all he did was to growl as an admonition. Prior to this, he fought verbally and internally with the pack as he sensed _a leech_ was present, annoyed and irritated.

_Why aren't you doing anything?_

_You told us you'll be able to handle it._

_You still like her, the leech – you still like her!_

_The months wasted shutting her off from your mind had no effect, but a mental hoax — for us._

_What are you? A leech-lover now?_

Jacob couldn't bear to have his eyes closed (back to the stupid verbal struggle, again), completely shut down from her face. She did not look like she was looking for trouble, but it's his natural instinct to destroy her. The blood, the gouge, the agony, the history, the infatuation… there were too much of… of it all, too much – he can't really kill her after all that. He loves her too much. And he loathed himself for it.

_What do you expect me to do? Dissemble her whole body? Dissemble Bella's body?_

The whole crew quieted down after he bawled out her name while rushing to the frontier – the name in which they were told by Sam never to speak again, sounded so strange on Jacob's lips. Sam sighed.

_I believe in you, Jake._

Sam sounded so serene, so father-like – it almost wasn't natural.

Bella stopped, nevertheless. Her delicate, cold fingers tangled and crossed together in front of her, head tilted downwards, but the eyes – _the damn golden eyes­ – _were gazing up, up at the familiar face she longed and missed.

There were no more words crying out in Jacob, he could almost hear the rain, he was vigilantly aware how quiet it has gotten. Bella smiled shyly at him, hoping at least – for a welcoming greeting after all. But knowing her hope was wasted already, she broke the pregnant pause.

"Hi."

Jacob didn't say anything, he held his breath, and wondered if her voice really did sound this amazing since the last time he ever spoke to her. Tuneful, and subtle.

"_Love you, Jacob."_

Presently, he would rather _imprint_ on Leah than facing this. It was complicated for him to get over Bella, and when he finally did, a true, pure smile sited on his forever poker face had gave everyone the impression of light. Well, it was good while it lasted; Sam, Quil, Embry, Paul, Leah – _Leah_ would rip him from ears to tail for the repeated fantasies, again. Perchance this time, it would be a dandy reminiscence of a brawl between the two. Leah never liked her anyways, so that'll be a treat for her.

"I came to see you," She wasn't comfortable apologizing first.

Jacob didn't know when he stopped with the warning growl; he stared back, forcing as much bitterness as he can muster. When his eyes fell gently upon her face – now they are only several inches apart – he can not suppress antagonism anymore; her splendour and the history rushing back in emotionally seem to overwhelm the icy, callous scent.

She waited knowingly. Jacob had to level out his heavy breathing, managed to speak out finally.

"You should go," He whispered.

"I'm breaking the rules, I know," She muttered warily, "I really didn't come here to cause violence or…"

Jacob interrupted by nodding.

Her eyes swelled up with tears, it was startling to him that vampires actually do cry. It's just who _she_ is. Emotions bloated inside of her. She didn't blink the tears back, so that they would fall, it looked like she intended that.

"I'm still Isabella Swan," Bella assembled a smile, but her pasty lips trembling, "I'm still me…"

He couldn't bear to gape at her, he stared upon his west, refusing to hear, yet liked her company more than he should. Jacob compressed his eyes shut.

The rain did not begin to alleviate, nor does Bella or Jacob heed this. She took another step closer, sniffing.

"See?" She spoke softly, "I'm crying – I haven't cried since the last time I saw you," Bella laughed between the sob, lightly. Too light.

"If I cause you so much pain, maybe you should leave." Jacob hissed, his voice louder and rougher than proposed.

"Coming here was a bad idea," She muttered to herself, "Maybe I should…"

Yet she took another step nearer, meeting him in the eyes, ignoring how bad he smelled and wandered about everything.

"That's promising," Jacob snorted.

"I just want you to know I miss you," She repeated, "I'm sorry I've been a hindrance tonight, and please don't be mad at me."

"…I'm not,"

Bella didn't look convinced, "Well, whenever you are ready, I'll…"

She took a step back, still watching his face, and turned around. Walking slowly but dejectedly, Jacob only stared desolately after her. He wanted to hug her, once more – hearing the 'ow' from the potency of his embrace, because that's normal. He wanted to caress her face again, soft, and healthily pale. He wanted to kiss her again, short, simple and sweet. He wanted a lot of things, unattainable things.

Swiftly, in a graceful twist (Jacob's face contorted with slight twinge as it reminded of how inept she used to be), she turn around, facing him once more. Her mouth was opened; she wanted to say something but just can't get the words right out. Bella smiled sadly.

"Do I really smell as bad?"

Jacob waited for a while; she did not spin around, instead waited for the answer earnestly. His lips twitched at the side.

"You smell worse,"

To be frank, she smelled better than the others, but that's just probably his mind at work half of the time she's around him, but the minor urge to rip, tear, kill did not evaporate wholly.

Bella nodded, she took his answer to heart (if she still has one) and walked gradually, Jacob half hoped she would turn around again, and ask for another stupid question… then another, then another, where she'll be so close to him, physically, less than a step, asking the concluding question where then, they both start to swoop on each other menacingly, one stronger than the other, strength added to passion; more pulling of hair, crushing of waist, two individuals tighter than ever, kissing more fervently than another in the gentle rain. Where the odour doesn't seem offensive anymore as the adoration was greater beyond everything, where Jacob was able to ignore Billy, Quil, Embry, and Sam – especially Sam's outlook on their craze, where they can just be together one more time – two more, three more, ten more, infinite, without even thinking of the consequences – because there aren't going to be any.

Ah, fiction.

"_Bella, I love you. And I want you to pick me instead of him."_

"_I wouldn't want a miscommunication to stand in our way."_

"_Until your heart stops beating,"_

"…_but I though it was pretty incredible myself."_

"_That's not much of an apology."_

"_You're overthinking it."_

"_I'll be your friend, Bella, I won't ask for more than that."_

"_Can I tell you what the worst part is?"_

Rain seemed to pick up a new attitude, it dashed harsher, and a low train whistle could be heard far, far away. Bella walked. Why couldn't she run? Did she break a leg coming here or something?

Maybe what he should do is call out for her.

Bella looked back, once again. Uncertain, still shy, but beamed cheekily, and forlornly.

He sighed.

She ran to Jacob at a human's pace, tears flying out of her eyes along with the breeze in the air, he didn't move either, not heedful at all, stretched out his wide arm, nonchalant, accepting her soon embrace. Bella sobbed vaguely, and Jacob – well… Jacob still loved her, despite everything.

"I'm so sorry, Jake," She wept, "I don't know _what_ the hell I want,"

"I _can_ save you, Bella, from all this, I believe…" Jacob muttered, his nostrils stinging, yet the urge to kill was not great as before, "But you are stronger than this."

"No…" She objected briskly, wiping her eyes with her soft fingers, hugging him tighter and tighter, "Save yourself, Jake."

She knows he's done everything he could; he knows she's done everything she wanted to.

She truly _did_ smell like ice, and he did smell like earth; but like nature, if hailstones descend, it had to fall on _something_.

* * *

_Fin_


End file.
